Of Angels and Men
by UglyTurnip
Summary: Yuri has quite the night ahead of her- she plans to confess to MC! As the anxiety builds within her, however, can she control herself well enough to keep from bursting?
1. Arrival

Yuri practically threw herself onto the couch, tried to relax, and failed miserably.

Her mind felt like it was running on overdrive. Fear and excitement met in some sort of confusing fusion that, had her life depended on it, Yuri would not be able to put into words. She was happy, and yet she also wanted to just bolt into her room, hide in the closet, and wait for tonight to end.

He was coming over tonight.

It was just for collaboration- Yuri had to remind herself about that. Despite that, part of her felt like it was a first date. Every fiber of her being wished that it was. She didn't know why she felt this way about a boy, a boy that she had known for only a few months for Pete's sake, but he seemed to aggravate every possible emotion within her at once. Just his mere presence was enough to turn her into a stuttering mess, more so than usual, anyway. Was it the way he smiled at her? Was it the way that he would always chose to read with her? Was it the fact that, despite his lack of literary experience, he eagerly consumed and discussed everything she read with him? Yuri didn't know how he did it, but he stole her heart.

And that is why she wanted tonight to be perfect. Supposedly, they were just hanging out to help develop each other's short stories for a club project. In actuality, Yuri was going to risk everything tonight. She was going to confess, to find out at long last if those feelings were reciprocated. She clasped her hands together, tilted her dead down, and muttered a desperate prayer.

"Please be perfect. Please be perfect. Please let him love me back. Pleeeeaaaaaaaassssssssseeeeeee."

Mom walked in at about that moment, her high heels _click-clacking_ against the hardwood floor. She was clad in a long-flowing white dress, heels, and a golden necklace. She had her own date tonight, and she didn't seem the least bit worried.

"Honey, it will be fine," Mom spoke as she grabbed her purse. "You always talk about MC in such a positive light. Surely, he thinks the same about you. All you need is a little confidence."

As she spoke, Mom's beautiful eyes glimmered with warmth. It was not uncommon for Yuri's mother's friends to remark on how much she and her daughter looked alike. Indeed, they did share quite a handful of features: straight, silky violet hair, captivating eyes that were equally as purple, and, well, poor "posture". Where they differed, however, was in personality. Of all the people Yuri had met in her life, male or female, none possessed a propensity for extroversion equal to that of her mother's. Mom was always out with friends, and when she wasn't out with friends, she was happily chatting away with her family, or speaking with some distant contact over social media. While Yuri loved her mother unconditionally, she never understood how Mom could deal with all that constant noise. Just enduring the minimum social interaction that school required proved very daunting some days.

Then, Yuri realized that she was lost in her inner world again. She shook her head and cleared her throat. In spite of her mom's best efforts, all Yuri could do was offer an uncertain frown.

"I. . . I just don't know," she confessed. "I'm not as confident as you are."

Mom placed a reassuring hand on Yuri's shoulder. "Yuri, you have plenty to be confident about. Just be yourself, and be as proud of yourself as I am of you."

That managed to elicit a small smile out of Yuri. Mom knew that Yuri would find doubt in those words, she always did, but knowing that to be true did not stop her from trying to encourage her daughter. One day, Yuri would discover what a wonderful woman she had grown into. Mom hoped that would come sooner rather than later, and that this boy, this 'MC', would be the one to bring it out of her.

"Thank you, Mom," Yuri spoke softly and politely.

"You're very welcome, sweetie," Mom cooed as she ran a hand through Yuri's hair. Yuri squirmed uncomfortably, blushed a bit, and shot Mom a look that said "stop". Mom finally did.

"Just remember that boys can be a little, er, stupid when it comes to our affection," Mom reminded, turning around and snatching her purse off the countertop in the process. "Dad was the same way, you know. He's a smart cookie in most things, but how women work is outside of his spectrum of expertise."

Yuri nodded. She had heard both the advice and the anecdote a hundred times since blossoming into a teenager. Yuri had a hard time believing someone like dad, an ancient history professor at the city's most prestigious university, lacked knowledge on a subject so broad. It didn't help Mom's case that Dad often bought her flowers, took her on dates, and displayed affection at a healthy rate. Still, while Mom and Dad continued to love each other just as much as they did on the day of their wedding, Mom remained adamant that he lacked any ideas regarding social cues.

The loud clop clop clop of dress shoes hitting the hardwood floor signaled Dad's readiness. Sure enough, he entered the room a few seconds later, wrapped an arm around his wife, and held her close in a loving embrace. Mom giggled, then expressed her love with a kiss on the cheek.

Dad blushed. Regarding personality, he was much more similar to Yuri than his wife. Behind a pair of rectangular spectacles were two soft brown eyes, and he often wore a gentle, fatherly smile. He spoke far less in social situations than Mom did, but when he did speak, his tone was deep, masculine, and gentlemanly. He was the one to introduce Yuri to the fascinating worlds found in words on a page, and like Yuri, he seemed to often prefer books to people. The family was an exception, of course, as well as fellow scholars in his chosen field.

After a moment in his daze, Dad cleared his throat. "You ready to go, honey?"

"Of course, dear," Mom assured with a giggle.

Yuri looked away, embarrassed at the affection on full display. "H-have fun, Mom and Dad."

Dad nodded. "You too, honey."

"No funny business, now," Mom reminded, but her playful smile left it unclear as to how much of that command was in jest.

Whatever Mom's intentions had been, Yuri blushed. "O-oh, y-yes, of course."

Dad walked over to Yuri and smothered her in a hug. "I'm so proud of my little princess. Hard to believe she's all grown up, eh, Kasumi?"

Mom grinned from ear-to-ear. "She's turned into a fine young lady. MC is a very lucky man."

The praise heaped upon her only made Yuri feel more embarrassed. "Y-y-yes, well, I think I'm the lucky one, if we are completely honest. I just. . . I _really _hope everything goes according to plan, tonight."

"It will, honey," Dad promised. He gave he a kiss on the forehead, stepped away, and took Mom's hand in his. They started toward the front door, only for Mom to stop, reach into her purse, and pull out a few bills.

She placed them on the counter, then nodded at Yuri. "Get yourselves a pizza, dear; you can't go wrong without pizza."

Yuri nodded. "Thank you. Have a great time!"

"And you, as well," Mom returned. Then, the pair opened up the door, stepped out, and closed it gently behind them. All at once, the house was deathly quiet. Yuri glanced at the time on the microwave. 3:28. There would still be about another hour and a half before MC arrived. That would be more than enough time to get herself ready for the date. Knowing that it was enough time didn't make Yuri feel any less anxious. She resorted to heading upstairs to take a relaxing hot bath. But even as she lied back in the hot water, Yuri couldn't stop shaking. She glanced down at her arms. There was a rumor going around in school that, due to Yuri's fascination with blades, she regularly cut herself. It was a lie, of course, but it didn't stop the devil on her shoulder from running amok.

_Do you think he believes the rumors? You always wear long sleeves around him, after all._

_Does he merely pity a girl with a supposed bad habit? Is the no true fondness for the Yuri as a person?_

_Will he stop spending time with you when he finds out you're nothing more than a worrywart?_

_What if it's not concern at all that attracts him to you? What if it's entirely to do with your "posture"?_

Yuri thunked herself on the head. "Shut up!" she yelled. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone!"

_There you go again with those outbursts. How long will it take for him to find out that you're crazy? Not long, I bet._

In a swift motion, Yuri snatched her bottle of shampoo, poured an overabundant amount in her hand, and swiftly went about scrubbing her purple locks. Despite knowing better, she operated under the pretense that cleaning her scalp would also clean the nasty thoughts out of her mind. She thought back to Mom's words. How true were they in all actuality? Isn't it the duty of any good parent to bolster their child's self-esteem? Yuri sure didn't feel like she was the perfect young woman Mom painted her as.

She leaned further back in the tub until her hair was completely submurged beneath the water. Taking deep breaths, she finally managed to push back against the doubts festering within. Finally, she was at peace.

_There's only one way to find out._

Some time later, Yuri finished her shower, dressed herself in a short sleeve shirt and jeans, brushed her teeth just to make sure they were nice and clean, and took a seat in the living room. She was halfway through the second chapter of _Of Mice and Men _when she heard a knock at the door. She jumped up, inhaled sharply, and walked purposely toward the front door. She opened it, and to her great relief, there was MC. He stood about half a foot taller than she did, glancing down at her with a pair of empathetic amber eyes. He smiled, and Yuri unconsciously reciprocated.

"Hey, Yuri," MC greeted, notebook and pencil in hand. "How are you doing?"

"G-good evening," Yuri stammered, her grin widening. His presence alone made her feel things that she never dreamed of feeling before. Just being around him made her feel like anything in the world was possible. "P-please, come in."

_You didn't answer the question_, that little voice in the back of her heard reminded.

MC opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm feeling, great, by the way!" Yuri suddenly blurted out. "Fantastic! Wonderful! I'm so glad you're here!"

_Not that forceful, you dolt!_

MC opened his mouth to speak again.

"I-I-I-I mean, I'm good, thank you for asking," Yuri spoke again.

MC opened his mouth to speak one last time.

"S-sorry for the outbursts," Yuri apologized, glancing away in shame. "I've never had a friend over before, that's all."

Despite getting interrupted three times in a row, MC was no less happy to have visited Yuri. "It's no problem at all, Yuri; the only visitor I get often is Sayori. It will be nice to have someone else for a change."

Yuri cleared her throat. "Yes, well, please come in."

MC obeyed. It was only after he passed her that Yuri noticed he had brought his backpack with him. It was sorta sensible, she supposed, given how they had planned to work on their poetry together, but why did he feel compelled to bring his entire pack over? Surely, he would have been better off to just carry his notebook and a pen.

MC took a minute to scan the sizable kitchen the pair now found themselves in. Yuri's family, while not filthy rich, was quite well off. She caught a glint of what appear to be marvel in MC's eyes.

"Wow, nice place you got here," MC remarked. "I feel like this one room is bigger than my whole house!"

If he was exaggerating, he wasn't far off from the truth. Yuri's house was the primary testament to the family's considerable fortune. Having visited MC once to help him make decorations for the festival, Yuri had found his house rather small. That was not to say it wasn't a nice house; it was pretty cozy. Besides, she was more than willing to sacrifice the excessive space if it meant waking up beside him every morning, holding each other, cuddling, kissing, maybe doing _other _things.

"Yuri? You OK? You look a little zoned out."

And just like that, Yuri was flung out of her inappropriate fantasy, becoming very aware that now was not the time to imagine. "Y-yes! I was just, uh, ruminating over poem ideas, that's all!"

MC allowed himself a smirk. "You seemed rather happy to start writing, there. I guess you would be, though, with a vocabulary and imagination like yours. You know, Yuri, I wish I could be half the poet you are."

Yuri nodded. "W-well, thank you. Don't be so quick to deprecate your talents, however; I think you have such a wonderful way with words."

That wasn't a lie solely spoken to make him feel better, but a very real truth. Though there were some bumps and kinks in MC's writing style, he did possess legitimate talent. In any case, he proved himself a better poet than Natsuki and Sayori, and almost as good as Monika.

"Why don't I make us some tea?" Yuri asked, seeking approval before making said beverage. "To soothe our minds, of course."

MC nodded, setting his backpack down and taking a seat on her couch. "Sounds lovely, Yuri."

Yuri hummed happily as she left the kitchen, appearing a few minutes later with two steaming cups. She handed MC one, sat next to him, and smiled. MC chuckled, and Yuri, though she was as far from certain as possible, thought she saw a hint of pink in his cheeks.

"I ordered a pizza while I was brewing tea," Yuri informed. "You like pepperoni, right?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Good, good. I'm glad you like it," Yuri assured awkwardly. A somewhat uncomfortable silence permeated the room not long after, both parties searching for some way to continue the conversation. Finally, MC caught a glance at Yuri's book, picked it up, and smiled to himself.

"Of_ Mice and Men_, huh?" he remarked. "We had to read this last semester in English class. Steinbeck's quite the guy, ain't he?"

Yuri shrugged. "His perspectives of American life during the Great Depression are rather fascinating, though he isn't my favorite author. You read _Of Mice and Men_ in English? We read _The Grapes of Wrath_."

"I guess Mr. Richards likes to alternate every semester," MC said with a shrug. "Still, I'm surprised you haven't already read it before."

"There are only a set amount of books that a girl can read, MC," Yuri reminded with a smirk. "It's not exactly as if I have a problem with that, however; it means that I will always find something new to bury my nose in."

"That's a great way to look at it, Yuri."

That made her heart swell with joy. "T-thank you. I've been trying t-to take your advice about viewing myself in a positive light. I think it's working."

He had tried so hard to break her out of her shell; even she recognized that. Sometimes, he tried a little too hard, but Yuri didn't doubt for a second that his attempts were from the heart. Honestly, while she was making baby steps, Yuri still hadn't made much progress. That was OK. It was OK because it meant MC would keep trying. He would spend time with her. He would think of her.

He would care for her. She grinned with glee.

"Right, well, why don't we start with our stories?" Yuri spoke. "Do you have any ideas about yours?"

MC shrugged. "I guess you could say that. I mean, it's _probably_ dumb, but I like it.

"What do you mean?"

MC made a motion with his arms that resembled weighing two separate objects. "Well, it's a fantasy world. I thought it would be cool if I wrote about angels living with normal people, but I'm still struggling. How do I make my story be original?"

Yuri brought her pen to her lip, lightly tapping it in thought. Effortlessly, her passion for the literary world had awoken. Ideas flickered in her mind, some dying almost instantly, but some lingering as legitimate ideas. After a pause that was perhaps a little uncomfortably long, she turned back to MC. "Well, what story do you want to tell? I always find it more important to create a plot, get the basic details down, then try to develop the world properly. What kind of story do you want to tell?"

MC scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well, romance."

Yuri's eyes widened just slightly. He didn't seem to notice. "O-oh, really? F-forgive me, I didn't take you for the romantic type."

"I didn't, either," MC said with a shrug. "But I've had it on my mind the past few days. I know it's overused to hell, but I wanna do the typical 'two people from different societies meet and fall in love' thing. At the same time, I want to put my own twist on it."

Yuri's face burned. "Y-y-yes. W-w-well, I, uh, can you excuse me for just a moment?"

MC nodded. "You're good."

Yuri rose from her seat, forced herself to walk out of the room calmly, and immediately burst into silent cheer once she rounded the corner. Yes! Yes! Maybe he did feel something, too! Maybe things would just work out, after all! She sighed dreamily.

_I love him so much!_

With that thought, she turned around, walked back into the room, picked up her notebook, and nodded.

"Ready to begin?"

"Yep."

She beamed. "Wonderful."


	2. Contemplation

MC absentmindedly beat his pencil's eraser against his notebook, his mind searching for something worthy of transcribing onto the pages. Unfortunately, just as it had for the past thirty minutes, no progress was made. He glanced around at the living room, at the blank television screen, at the half-eaten pizza box on the coffee table, at his own plate, which still held a single slice, and finally, at Yuri. When his eyes fell upon her, he couldn't help but smile. She did not meet his gaze, but only because she was far too busy writing on a sheet of paper to notice she was being watched. Though he couldn't quite decipher what she was writing from his position, he instinctively knew that it was perfect. Why? Because, despite the fact that she stumbled through conversations like a blind, homeless gadfly, she proved an excellent wordsmith by all accounts. Yuri could never write a bad poem, not even if she tried.

He loved that about her.

He loved _her_.

He fixated his gaze toward his backpack, and he swallowed.

But did she love him? She had to have liked him, given how she had opened up to him, how the two read together, and how she took him under her wing as an informal poetry apprentice of sorts. A budding friendship, however, was far different from love. She would distance herself from him if the feelings were reciprocated, not out of hate, for Yuri couldn't find it in her heart to hate, but out of her own shame for disappointing him.

MC didn't want to ruin his friendship with Yuri, so instead of reaching into his backpack, he reached for another slice.

"How do you do it?"

Yuri glanced up from her work. She had been so lost in her work that she hadn't even finished her first slice. "Huh? Do what, exactly?"

"Write so much on the spot," MC answered, taking a bite out of his pizza slice. It was still hot and fresh, much to his delight. Swallowing, he continued. "It's like you just know everything that you want to tell the world at a moment's notice. You don't have to think about what you want to say; you just say it."

Yuri glanced down at her paper. Unbeknownst to MC, none of these poems were ones she wanted him to see. They were love poems, poems that described him in intimate detail, in fact. They weren't that good, in her opinion, but she did see that he had a point. Even if Yuri stammered and tripped over every other sentence that she tried to say, when her pen crossed paper, she was as eloquent as a senior diplomat.

How _did _she do it? There was an obvious answer, of course: she read. She read a lot. Dad wrote well, too, and he always credited his talents to the countless hours expended reading books. Yuri had no reason to believe her case was different.

But there was an explanation for her talents. There wasn't one for Mom's, or MC's. MC was not a bad public speaker: he was nice, a good listener, he could look anyone in the eye, and his smile, his beautiful smile, always seemed genuine. Yuri grinned with delight.

"Uh, Yuri, are you there?" MC inquired. When he didn't get an answer, he glanced down at the notebook. "Hey, can I read these?"

Yuri felt him tug on her notebook. With no time to think rationally, she jerked it back. Perhaps she jerked a little too hard, as MC fell right onto her chest with a surprised shout. It took him a moment to reorient himself, and when he did, all he could do was smirk nervously. His cheeks were red, but why wouldn't they be? After all, he had landed on a pair of soft, large, er, _pillows_.

"S-sorry, Yuri. I guess I should have waited for your reply before just taking it away from you."

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't see what she had written! Great!

Then it occurred to her just where he landed, and her face reddened by about 12 shades. "You're fine! Good, I mean! I meant good!"

There was an intensity in her voice that caused MC to scramble off of her in no time at all. Even Yuri, for all her failings regarding social detection, was able to tell that he was just as embarrassed. Nevertheless, he tried to smile and laugh it off.

How did he manage it? By that, how did he manage to laugh off such embarrassment, pick himself up, and go on without drowning in a sea of anxiety? Yuri tried to say something in an effort to get their conversation back on track, but she only trembled.

"Are you alright, Yuri?" MC questioned after a few moments of silence.

"Y-y-yes, uh, I believe so?"

"If that made you uncomfortable, I understand."

It really didn't, at least not from Yuri's end. If anything, their closeness filled Yuri with a most comforting warmth. Closing her notebook, she finally found the courage to look him in the eyes.

"It's fine. Accidents happen. I just"- she frowned, trailing off- "I'm saving those poems for something important. They're very personal, and very meaningful to me. I hope you don't mind!"

MC only shrugged. "Not at all. Anyways, where were we, again?"

Yuri plucked a pen off the table and gestured toward MC's notebook. "Trying to write our stories, remember? I don't mean anything, er, hostile by this, but you seem to be having a considerable amount of trouble."

MC was not offended. Yuri was so soft and gentle that, had she tried to offend him on purpose, he probably still would not be offended. "You're right. It's that unique twist, Yuri. This can't be a generic star-crossed lovers' story, it needs something unique."

Yuri only giggled. His resolve was strong, if perhaps a touch stubborn. "Well, it doesn't have to be perfect, MC. After all, this is just a club activity. Monika isn't looking for Shakespearean originality, surely."

MC took another bite of pizza. "I'm not looking solely for Monika's approval," he assured with a grunt. "Nor am I looking for Sayori's or Natsuki's."

Yuri hesitated, shooting awkward glances around the room. "I'm sorry. I don't think I understand."

"Oh, I hope they like it," MC added with a smile and nod. "But it's not being made just so they like it. I'm doing it for me, so I can tell, for the first time in my life, a half-original story to the world."

The statement was, by all accounts, truthful. However, what Yuri did not know was that there was an ulterior reason for his story. It was for her, because if it was the kind of story that could impress even Yuri, then MC was certainly on the right track. He only hoped he wouldn't end up writing something stupid.

"If only I could overcome this writer's block," MC groaned, more to himself than to Yuri. "It feels like it's been with me all night."

Yuri set down her notebook, and, in a moment that surprised even herself, she looked MC straight in the eye. Within this beautiful amber-colored spheres lied frustration, so Yuri tried her best to express warmth in her own gaze. MC's lips soon curled into a smile, so she guessed that it had worked.

"M-MC, I have faith that will make something remarkable. Don't let your writer's block get you down, OK?"

MC nodded. "Thank you, Yuri. You're a good friend, you know? The angels in this story couldn't match your kindness."

Try though she did, she could not stop the blush. "I-, er, I-"

MC only chuckled nervously as his own realization set in. He instinctively avert her gaze, instead opting to stare at his feet while scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. That was awkward."

"N-no," Yuri assured, a genuine smile returning to her. "I appreciate it. I don't have many friends outside of the club, you know. In fact, I don't even know if Natsuki considers me a friend at all. I think a lot of people are scared of me, if that makes any sense. I hear the rumors my classmates spread behind my back, and, well, it just means a lot to me to know that not everyone thinks so lowly of me."

"I've never thought lowly of you, Yuri. You've been my friend since day one, you've shared you innermost thoughts with me every day. Heck, you've been a wonderful host tonight. The people spreading rumors probably wish they could be half as talented as you.

Yuri's heart was sent aflutter. She wondered, very briefly, why his words worked so well to comfort her in comparison to those spoken by her parents. She ultimately decided that it didn't matter; she knew he meant everything he said.

Suddenly, excitedly, she rose from the couch. "Why don't we take a break from all this writing? D-do something a little different? I haven't even given you a tour of my room, yet. W-we could certainly do that, if you'd like."

MC raised an eyebrow. "Sure? Are you alright, Yuri? That was awful sudden of you."

"Yes!" Yuri exclaimed, her indoor voice but a distant memory. Then, she cleared her throat, inhaled deeply, and managed to temper her excitement. "I mean, yes. I got a little excited- that's all."

She wondered if he was judging her, if he perhaps was beginning to think those same negative thoughts that she knew others did. However, when the bewilderment left his eyes, replaced once more with a glimmer of his own enthusiasm, Yuri's doubts melted like snow in the spring.

"I'd love to see your room," MC replied, rising to meet her.

"G-great," Yuri stammered. "Follow me."

She turned and marched toward the stairs, her movements rigid and controlled. They had to be, lest she burst from raw excitement. Her heart pounded, her eyes darted from one way to the next, and she almost had the courage to turn around and kiss him right then and there.

She swallowed. _Almost. _As much as she wanted to, she hadn't found the will to tell him how she felt. Maybe if they just talked, things would develop naturally.

One thing was for certain, however: Yuri was actually craving the social interaction, so long as it was with MC and MC alone. She jokingly wondered if her crush on MC had driven her mad, but then she shook her head. If love was madness, then Yuri didn't mind in the slightest.

MC began to follow her, but stopped momentarily. He turned his attention to his backpack, remembering what he had stored inside. Then, quietly, carefully, he snatched it up and followed Yuri up the stairs.

All the way up, a single thought pulsated through his brain:

_I gotta make my move._


	3. Confession

**Howdy, folks. Some of you are probably like "Woah, Turnip! You're alive!?" To that, I say "Mmmmmm, perhaps." **

**But in all seriousness, I've been gone a long time and I think you are all entitled to an explanation. Well, I've had a mediocre summer, to put it bluntly. It wasn't the stuff of nightmares or anything, but my laptop broke to an unsalvageable state and I have to save up a good chunk of change to buy my current one. It's a newer, but low-end Acer, with all the bells and whistles I could need for writing. I also am developing this worrying problem where I seem to hate writing and think it's too much hard work, then I actually, reluctantly, open up a doc. The next thing I know, I've written 700 words in the last thirty minutes, and I had a lot of fun in that timespan. I don't know what causes me to think writing is hard or not fun when I don't really find either to be true, but I digress. Now that I have a working laptop, and I have stopped wasting my time with a CK2 campaign, I can bring this story to a close.**

**Thank you for being patient.**

* * *

Yuri and MC hiked up the stairs silently, their minds equally occupied on troubling propositions.

Though she ceaselessly put one foot in front of the other, Yuri seriously considered whipping around and heading back down. Her room was her ultimate sanctuary, unrivaled by anywhere else save for her fantasies. And yet here she was, about to expose everything she was, everything she represented, to the person she was most afraid to offend. Still, in spite of what she felt was her better judgement, she soldiered on, blissfully unaware of MC's own plight.

MC's backpack, by all accounts, had no reason to feel as heavy as it did around his shoulders. He rarely carried his textbooks home, even when he did have homework. And he certainly wouldn't have brought them to Yuri's house, not when they weren't even planning to do homework in the first place. Despite these truths, MC believed hiking Everest with an army ruck an ideal alternative. What he carried weighed little physically, but it weighed a whole universe emotionally. Doubt remained, in spite of what he told himself about Yuri's positive character.

Finally, wordlessly, Yuri and MC stopped outside of Yuri's closed door. Chuckling awkwardly, it was Yuri that finally broke the silence.

"Well, here we are," she offered with an awkward gesture. "This is my room. I keep. . . My things. . . Here."

_C'mon, Yuri! Say something charming for once in your life!_

Alas, no acceptable string of words surfaced. Instead, the silence returned, more awkward, permeating the dimly-lit hallway like a wool blanket on a summer afternoon.

"Yuri, are you alright with me coming in?" MC questioned with a nervous smirk. "If you don't want-"

Suddenly, almost defiantly, Yuri turned the knob and pushed open the door. "Nonsense! You're my best friend, and what kind of host would I be if I sequestered portions of my house willy-nilly? I have nothing to hide from you, of that I promise."

Something about that got a wider, more appreciative smile out of MC. Instead of saying anything, however, he turned his attention to the room. MC had only seen one other girl's bedroom in his entire life, and Sayori was a rather quirky decorator. As was to be expected, Yuri decorated in a manner that was both more tasteful and far more sophisticated. The walls were a dull, yet soothing purple, not quite the shade of Yuri's hair, but almost complementarily close. In the far corner sat a queen-sized bed, regal in white sheets. Lying on one of the fluffy pillows was a small, somewhat worn teddy bear, perhaps a well-loved relic from Yuri's childhood. The average teenage girl, MC supposed, would have at least a poster or two hung on her bedroom wall, but not Yuri. That wasn't to say Yuri's walls were bare and dull, however. What they lacked in posters, they made up for in beautiful landscape paintings of forests, of sun-tickled trees standing erect next to country trails, and of orange, dusky skies over beaches. The last one of these particularly caught MC's eye, and he gravitated towards it.

"Yuri," he began, pausing to swallow. "These are. . . Remarkable! Did you paint these yourself?"

To his shock, Yuri shook her head. A glint of worry became noticeable in her eye, as if that was a bad thing. "N-no, I'm afraid. I'm not exactly much of a painter, but I still find something remarkable about the works of Shishkin," she explained. Without realizing it herself, that worry evaporated and condensed into a look of wonder and awe, as if, for the first time, she saw those paintings too. "That man can build a world using only a brush and a few blobs of color, and he can make you feel like you are really there. In some ways, that alone is far more admirable than the works of the greatest authors."

"So it seems," MC added with a nod that made it look like he agree and that any thinker worth his salt would have imparted the same knowledge. Knowing nothing of visual art in general, much less of who 'Shishkin' even was, MC instead turned his attention to an oak desk that sat at the foot of Yuri's bed. A black display case was positioned neatly at its corner, and seeking a better view to satisfy his growing curiosities, MC headed towards it.

Yuri was far too focused on the magnificence of those paintings to noticed where MC was heading. Had she even the slightest realization, she would have swung around and pulled him away in an instant. As it stood, she remained blissfully unaware until a subtle _click_ caught her attention. She spun around, and to her horror, she remembered that she had failed to hide away her darkest secret.

"MC!" she shouted with far more intensity than she had meant to. "W-what are you doing?"

MC held a butterfly knife in his hand, examining the obsidian color of the handle with mild intrigue. "Just checking out your knife collection. Why?" he glanced up, going pale at the sight of Yuri's utter fright. "Was I not supposed to touch this? I'll-I'll put it back!" MC declared as he placed the knife back in the case and shut the glass lid.

Yuri paced herself toward him, offering a gentle pat on the shoulder. Her face still held considerable emotional distress, but her touch was soft and deliberately gentle. That left MC with absolutely no clue as to how she really felt.

"I'm sorry," Yuri finally offered. "You can touch that all you like, so long as you're careful with it. I just. . . I just didn't mean for you to see that."

MC tilted his head in confusion. Something about her reaction wasn't adding up, that much he knew. "Didn't you tell me earlier that you had nothing to hide?"

Yuri froze, not from the simple question she had been asked, but from what rang through her mind in response to it.

_He knows. . . He knows, and you were too stupid to keep the charade going. Now, he's going to ask questions._

That voice in her head had returned, it's tone jeering and mocking, and it made Yuri feel very, very insignificant.

"Can we just drop it? Pretend it never happened? Please? I'll show you all my books, just-"

MC took her hand it is, looked her in the eye sympathetically, and said nothing. He didn't need to say anything; that look on his face made it perfectly clear that he knew something was up.

"I just, er, I don't wanna talk about my knife collection right now, please!"

Sweat beaded on Yuri's forehead. The voice continued its mocking bereavement, but Yuri couldn't make out what it was saying over her own sweltering heartbeat. All at once, she turned away from MC and swatted his hand away.

"Yuri. . ."

She locked up completely. Unpleasant memories, ones she had long ago tried to expel from her psyche, bubbled back to the surface. All that mockery and abandonment from so-called friends, it filled her with rage and anger.

_He'll throw you away just like they did!_

But when Yuri finally looked back, finally saw MC's face, that look of compassion and understanding told her otherwise. This was far from the first time she had a strange outburst, and yet despite witnessing countless said exclamations, MC's loyalty had never waivered.

And that made her feel somewhat more powerful. It was enough to make her rise against that voice of hate in her brain. And so, with a deep breath, and an empathetic glimmer in her eye, she finally calmed herself.

"I'm sorry. Please, sit down. There's. . . There's something I feel like I should tell you."

"Yuri, I know you find knives interesting, and that's O-"

"MC, please," she pleaded. "Just, I need you to listen to me. I need to get something off my chest, a lot of things, actually."

_What are you doing!? _screamed the voice impudently. _Are you seriously going to tell him about you 'traumatic social life'!? Don't be foolish!_

_Hush,_ Yuri mouthed to herself. _I am._

And so, the voice went quiet once again.

Sitting on the bed next to him, Yuri looked him straight in the eye with an unexpected ferocity. For all intents and purposes, she might as well have been burrowing herself deep into his soul. Seconds passed, each one seemingly slower than the last, and Yuri still said nothing. At last, her gaze softened. Her mind was made up. She was going to tell him everything. Maybe he would understand, or maybe he would offer some empty sympathy.

Or maybe he'd hate her for being so foolish. At least he'd be honest, were that to be the case.

Clearing her throat, Yuri glanced away, gazing at the stand that held her beloved collection of blades. She sighed unconsciously.

"Please promise me something," she said with a quivering lip , as if she was straining to hold back any and all emotions. "You can think about me however you want, but it would damage me so, so much if word got around about this."

At first, MC said nothing, but Yuri soon found out that he didn't need to. Smiling ever so slightly, he placed his hand over hers, held it tightly, and simply said, "Only tell me what you feel comfortable telling. I will not force your hand on anything."

Yuri swallowed. It was, of course, usual for her to avoid eye contact when she was feeling shy. But, in spite of the fact that she knew MC was a friend, she couldn't even find it in her to glance in his direction. For the first time in many, many months, a familiar, excruciating feeling pressed against her ribcage. Her breathing became slightly labored, but physically, nothing changed.

"Y-y-y-you s-s-see," Yuri choked back a sob. Why couldn't she be stoic about this!? The characters in her books wouldn't be so bothered by a little teasing! But then again, they saved worlds, forged friendships with all sorts of people during their adventures, and grew into the types of men and women worthy of idolization. Yuri? Yuri just read about them.

MC's hand remained on Yuri's, but his smile was gone. Yuri's eyes were too watery to decipher for certain, but there seemed to be a concerned frown in its place.

She had just barely begun to explain what had happened when they came back. Those painful memories, memories of name-calling, of cruel lies, and of social ostracization, came flooding back. They did everything they could to make Yuri feel like garbage, and in the end, they had succeeded.

And yet still, MC clung to her hand. He stayed by her side when she was sure he would have run away. Even if he didn't really care, even if his concern for her was merely an act, at least he made the effort to try to make her feel accepted.

With that in mind, she cleared her throat. "W-w-when I was a f-freshman, I wanted to try to make friends quickly. S-so I tried t-t-to talk to some g-g-girls, you know? I was always shy, so i-it was never easy, but trying has to be what counts, right?"

MC nodded. "Of course."

Yuri sniffled. There wasn't much use in continuing her fledgling attempts to hold herself back.

"S-so, I met these g-girls. A-and they really seemed to like me," she choked back. The mere thought of _them_ made her blood boil and brain burn. "F-for the first time in my life, I thought I had real f-friends. They h-hung out with me after school, i-invited me to parties, and treated me am-amicably."

MC tilted his head in further confusion. Yuri could only respond with a scowl as fierce as a rabid dog's bite. He just wasn't getting it, was he!?

"Yuri, I don't understand."

But he squeezed her hand tighter, and the reminder of his firm touch, a touch that could melt her heart in no time at all, allowed her rage to flow out of her.

If only the grief could accompany it.

"Do you need some time to, uh, compose yourself?"

Yuri nodded, sniffled, and wiped the tears away. More continued to flow, accompanied by hics and whimpered sobs, but MC's gentle embrace reminded her that, whatever had happened was in the past.

And that he was so much better. Those nasty thoughts within her tried to rise, to whisper some sinister, deprecating lie about him. They told her that he would one day push her aside and leave her just as humiliated as she had been before he came into her life. He, they reasoned, was only after her for his own nefarious purpose.

So she snapped those thoughts into nothingness with almost no effort.

She breathed in, then out, and stability returned at last. Then, she continued:

"They also used me terribly."

MC's frown deepened, and his eyes flickered with genuine empathy. "Yuri, that's awful."

"It turns out that they just wanted me around to do their homework for them. I did it, thinking that friends did those sorts of things. And if they truly were my friends, I never would have minded, but then they started,"-she sniffled, but this time she fought it back and succeeded-"telling rumors about me."

"What do you mean?"

"Surely, you've heard. Why do you think everyone avoids me?"

There was no malice in her tone, as if she was merely trying to remind him of a simple fact that even a small child should be able to understand.

"Yuri, I would never avoid you. You're one of my best friends. You're brilliant, kind, and, well, insightful."

That brought a smile out of her. "Thank you. Well, I supposed I should actually tell you, right?"

Slowly, gently, MC let go of her hand.

"Only if you feel comfortable with it. I won't force you to say anything that you don't want to."

Yuri nodded, and despite the fact that she was sure she heard her negative thoughts say something nasty, she didn't hear them. "Well, I want to," she confirmed, and the she lifted her left sleeve. MC was greeted to the sight of a perfectly normal, bare arm. Well, it was almost normal; the only thing out of place was a single scar about 4 inches below her wrist. There it sat, all alone, as Yuri traced her finger around it.

"It's strange," she remarked, surprisingly calm now that her secret is out. "Even though I know better, sometimes I expect to see an array of them down there. I suppose it's not a great sign of my mental health when even I believe the rumors, is it?"

MC tilted his head. "Yuri, what do you mean?"

With her bare arm, Yuri pointed a finger to her collection of sharp blades sitting in the case on her desk. All at once, it clicked with MC.

His expression fell, not into one of disapproval or disdain, but to a great disheartening that, for a moment, made Yuri believe she had done the wrong thing.

Until he pulled her close and held her tight, in a way that she had never been held before. Closer than friends, closer than family, they held on tightly to each other. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, how it seemed to quicken more and more with each passing second, and she knew that everything was OK. In that moment, nothing could make her feel alone. He was with her, and even now, after he knew what brought her shame all these years, he chose to stay by her.

But she couldn't stop herself from crying. Why was she crying!? Through his own will, he had chosen to support her. What right did she have to still be shaken up like this!?

"I-it was an acc-accident!" Yuri exclaimed through the first sobs. "B-but then they saw, a-and they already knew about the k-knives, s-s-s-s-so th-they told everyone that I. . . D-did that to myself. A-and everyone believed them! N-n-nobody wanted anything to do with me, ev-even when I tried to show them it was a one-time mistake and that I don't cut myself! But no! I was a f-freak!" She hissed between her teeth. "I was the weird girl for just accidentally cutting myself one day!"

MC didn't say anything, but as far as Yuri was concerned, that was OK. His warm touch, his presence, his heartbeat, it was more reassuring than any phrase he could have uttered. Yuri wasn't a freak to him, and maybe, just maybe, she wasn't a freak to Monika, or Sayori, or even Natsuki. Maybe, just maybe, people weren't as mean and judgmental as she had thought all this time.

Some time passed, though Yuri did not seem to notice. She just cried, even though she found that she wasn't really upset anymore. Perhaps it was just the way all that bottled up hurt and self-hatred had to leave her. Perhaps they were even tears of joy. Whatever they were, MC didn't even seem to mind.

At last, she felt composed enough to pull away. Sniffling the last of the tears away, she found that looking into his eyes was no problem at all. It was almost as if this man had been with her for her entire life. Of course, that was untrue in any concrete sense, but this surge of confidence was so alien that Yuri couldn't think of any rational explanation.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Yuri confessed. "I just. . . You mean a lot to me, and the last time anyone at school had even a fraction of real meaning to me was when I got burned. So, if you want to think differently of me now, that's OK, but please just do-"

A kiss kept her from going any further. Yuri's eyes widened. A muffled gasp escaped her, but as she realized what he had just done, she closed her eyes and gave herself into the passion. Her heart could have bounced right out of her throat just from the sheer joy of knowing her feelings were reciprocated. He caressed her back, his fingers occasionally playing with violet locks, before at last he pulled back. A string of saliva remained a bridge between their lips.

"I guess it's safe to say that you mean a lot to me, too," MC joked as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. The raging heat on his cheeks might have outclassed even Yuri's, but it was hard to tell for certain.

An awkward, somewhat uncomfortable silence crept in after he finished his sentence. MC's smile fell. Had he misjudged Yuri's words? What if she only meant that as a really good friend? Maybe that kiss, sweat as it was, would forever fill her with hate for him. At once, he bowed his head in a sincere gesture of apology.

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't do something you might find uncomfortabl-."

Yuri tried to yank him close and smooch him back, but she was far too excited to coordinate her movement well. All she managed to accomplish was bumping her nose in his eye.

"Ouch!"

"I'm sorry!" Yuri exclaimed. "I, uh, j-just wanted to, erm, return the favor."

MC rubbed his eye painfully, and for a moment, he failed to notice what Yuri meant. Then, like a beautiful sunset moving out from behind pinkish clouds, it all so wonderfully came together. In an instant, their lips met once more, and the world became as perfect as it could ever be.

"I. . . I meant to tell you tonight," Yuri insisted when they parted again. "I really did, I had a speech prepared and everything. But, well, we got off track, and I started worrying, and. . . I just didn't want to ruin something already wonderful."

MC only laughed. "Would you believe I had the exact same idea? It was dumb, now that I think about it, but I wanted to write you a sappy love letter, something that you'd find just a little bit endearing. I know it's dumb, but-"

"It's not dumb," Yuri interrupted loudly and excitedly. Had heart beat even a tad faster, it would have almost certainly burst out from her chest. "It's from you, and that alone would make it spectacular from my perspective!"

MC's eyes darted to his backpack. "Well, uh, do you want me to read it?"

"Nothing would make me happier."

Rising to his feet, MC snatched up his backpack, unzipped it, and cautiously pulled out a page protector. Inside was a single sheet, faultlessly clean and smooth. He withdrew it so slowly, so carefully, that a snail might as well have traveled over a mountain before it was in his hands. One scan seemed to reveal a thousand little imperfections, be they poor word choices or outright grammatical errors. Nevertheless, one glance at Yuri's patient smile put the wind back in his proverbial sails. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud:

_Dear Yuri,_

_I would like to preface this letter by stating that I have no idea what I'm doing. I've practiced writing this so many times, I've conducted research on how to precisely get my point across, and yet I feel no closer to getting it perfect now than I did when I began my first draft. You are a far better wordsmith than I could ever hope to be, and I know what I write is no match for what you could do. Regardless, I hope that, whatever you may think of them, my feelings are properly communicated here in this letter._

_Yuri, you mean something special to me. Whenever I see you at the club, my heart can't help but to skip a beat. Funny, I've this letter so many times, and I still can't find the proper words to explain how you make me feel. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on, and I do not mean in just the physical sense. Your intellect is beyond fascinating, and your attention to detail in how you craft your poetry rivals none. When I first sat down to read with you, I think it's remarkably clear to state that I was not at all a dedicated reader. But despite that, you wanted me to read with you, anyway. Patient as a saint, perhaps even as an angel, you guided me in the more subtle aspects of the written word. Never once was I made to feel inferior to you. Instead, I believe you always felt like I was an equal. Perhaps that was what gravitated me to you, to something beyond mere friendship: You cared._

_I imagine the context clues are beyond obvious, but I'll confess to you plainly regardless: I've fallen for you._

_Whether you think of me as a friend or something more is ultimately irrelevant to the purpose of my letter. I do not in the slightest consider myself entitled to your affection, and if this letter does nothing more than creep you out, I understand. I just wanted to get this off my chest. I'm in love of you, Yuri. You speak to me in a way that no girl, no **person**, has ever managed. You and you alone have greatly enhanced my view of the written word, and for that, I can only thank you with all of my heart. I will no longer hide how I truly feel about you, but if you do not share my feelings, I only hope that you do not end the wonder that is our friendship._

_With love,_

_MC_

His name had barely left his tongue before he looked up to see Yuri sobbing once again. At first, MC's heartbeat doubled in half a second, wondering if he had seen something wrong. Then, Yuri looked up. Her eyes, stained with tears, never averted his gaze, and her mouth broke into the biggest smile he had ever seen. That little letter meant more to her than a thousand epics, then a billion chapters. It was a love so genuine and accepting, that Yuri would've embraced it even if she hadn't longed for him already. And when that evil voice within her tried to rise once more and condemn her for perceived foolishness, she snatched it up in her arms and crushed it. It had no power over her anymore. She went for him, not for a kiss, but for an embrace. And as she snuggled up to him and, at last, lowered the last of her defenses, she finally felt like she could trust herself again.

* * *

"Are you sure you have to leave already?" Yuri pleaded as she followed MC toward the front door. "I truly meant it when I said that you were welcome to stay for as long as you liked."

"I'm afraid so," MC remarked regretfully. "It's already 9:30, and my parents will get worried if I'm not home before curfew."

"Oh, why not just throw that silly curfew to the wind?" Yuri pleaded. "You can stay the night, if you'd like. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind a chance to meet you, anyway!"

MC pecked his new girlfriend on the lips. "Yuri, that sounds wonderful, but we'll have to do it another time. I'm expected at home, and your dad might not like the idea of a co-ed sleepover."

"Nonsense! My father is an understanding man. He'd have you stay in a heartbeat if he were here. It will be a lonely night if I can't spend all of it with you."

"Shhhh," MC whispered, placing a finger over Yuri's lips. "It's just until tomorrow, then I can come back and we can help each other finish. We didn't get much done tonight, but the way I see it, my mind's swimming with all of sorts of ideas."

Yuri sighed. "I know, but tomorrow will take an eternity to get here, I'm afraid."

"It's only for a few hours," MC chuckled reassuringly. "You can wait that long, can't you?"

Yuri finally relented, offering a small smile. "Oh, I suppose I can pass the time reading. Just promise me that you _will_ show back up tomorrow, alright? That you won't say one thing, only to do another?"

MC pulled her into a hug that said more than any promise ever could. "I swear. By lunchtime, even."

Then, he let go of her, turned toward the door, and opened it. Moonlight spilled into the foyer, wrapping around MC like a faint glow around his body. It was heavenly.

"Bye, Yuri," MC said as stepped out. "This was one of the best nights of my life, and don't you forget it!"

"As was it mine," Yuri offered with a bright smile. "Be safe!"

"I certainly will," MC returned, and then he turned away.

Yuri watched him leave, and her heat already longed for him to come back. In spite of her desires, she closed the door, then headed back to the living room for what was left of the pizza. It was not until she entered the living room that she realized MC had forgotten something. His notebook lied on the coffee table, turned to the page on which he had been jotting down ideas for his story.

Taking a slice of pizza, Yuri couldn't help but to have a little peak. On the top, in big, bold letters, was the title, accompanied by what just might've been her in a white gown and a halo:

**Of Angels and Men**

Whatever it was, it would be worth cherishing forever, just like him.


End file.
